


Premonitions

by soldiers_and_medics



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Premonitions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldiers_and_medics/pseuds/soldiers_and_medics
Summary: Babe Heffron was not supposed to die today.In which Eugene has nightmares, and it seems like everyone is dying around him.
Relationships: Edward "Babe" Heffron/Eugene Roe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, and welcome to my first story in this fandom (and on this site, first story ever)!
> 
> The first and second chapters (out of four) are written and almost entirely betaed by the wonderful Laura (@Anthrobrat) and Sydney, so I think you can expect weekly updates.
> 
> A big thank you to Laura and Sydney again for betaing, and to everyone who encouraged me!
> 
> And of course, the disclaimer: I have the utmost respect for the real men of Easy Company, this is entirely based on the portrayals of the actors in the TV series. I mean no disrespect to anyone whatsoever.

Babe Heffron was not supposed to die today. That was the first thing that crossed Eugene’s mind as he stared at the lifeless, dull-eyed body at his feet. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t look at him, couldn’t check if he was really gone, because there were voices, other voices calling out for him, and…

“Fuck.”

The word tumbled out of his mouth before he could hold it back, and then he was running, running towards the pained voice, running away from Heffron…

And there was blood everywhere when he finally got to 1st Lieutenant Welsh, blood flowing from the ruin of his leg, and he could only stare.

He gasped awake, and the first thing he saw was Spina’s face, hovering concernedly above his. When he focused on his environment though, he recognized the aid station in Holland and sighed in relief. No snow in sight, thank God.

“You had another nightmare.”

Not a question. Which was just as well, because he couldn’t have denied it anyway.

“They’re gettin’ more frequent.”

Another affirmation that he couldn’t deny. More frequent and more realistic too… though he would never tell that to Spina. Not that he didn’t trust him. He did. But that wasn’t about trust, it was about privacy. Something everyone needed these days.

“Still don’t wanna talk about it?” Spina stared at him intently. “Maybe it would help.”

“Or maybe it wouldn’t.”

“Yeah…”

Spina didn’t look convinced, but he dropped the subject anyway. Eugene was grateful for it, so he continued, “I’ll try not to bother you next time it happens.”

When he heard that, Spina turned to look at him again and sighed. “That’s what you promise every time, Gene. But I’m always gonna worry, y’know.”

And Eugene could do nothing but look apologetic.

.:.

_ Why him? _

“Why who?”

Eugene started and turned around, fast. How could he not have heard him come in the aid station? Was he really so absorbed in his thoughts? And what if he’d missed something else, what if… He forced himself to calm down and only one question remained: why on earth did it have to be  _ him _ ?

“You wanted somethin’, Heffron?”

And to say he’d actually believed that Heffron would just let it go… Well, he didn’t.

“You talkin’ to yourself in there, Doc?” he asked with a worried frown. “Need any help?” And it was just so obvious that he didn’t mean it like lending a hand.

Eugene just sighed and replied tiredly, “You need any help?”

For a moment, he thought Heffron wouldn’t answer. He thought he would insist, maybe tell people, but he finally said, “No. I came here ‘cause I wanted to check up on ya.”

Eugene couldn’t help it. He quirked an eyebrow and stared at the other man.

“It’s just that ya’ve been starin’ at me for the best part of the last month. I wanted to know if you needed my help or if you had a problem. Maybe I did somethin’ wrong.”

“Ya did nothin’ wrong, Heffron. Now if ya don’t need any help, I need ta clean all that up.” And he vaguely motioned behind him at all the boxes that needed to be sorted. Heffron’s eyes followed his movement and he shrugged, before turning around and leaving, not without throwing a worried glance in his direction.

.:.

He should be used to it by now. It had been one month since the first nightmare, or whatever these were. And yet, seeing Heffron on the ground, the surprisingly clean hole in his helmet, his dull eyes staring up at the sky… It was just as hard as the first time. And 1st Lieutenant Welsh never helped.

He gasped awake.  _ Again _ . And again, Spina was staring at him from the place where he was sorting the boxes of bandages. Only this time, he just walked away without a word, and Eugene was left alone. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and whispered, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why doesn’t it stop? Why doesn’t it just fuckin’ stop?” And there wasn’t any answer possible, because the following night, the nightmare happened all over again. And he gasped awake. Again.

.:.

“You’re having them every night now. You can’t sleep, and then I can’t sleep, and it’s gotta stop!”

“I can’t really control them, Spina.” Eugene sighed and rubbed his palms over his eyes. “I’m tryin’ to, but I can’t.”

“And what the hell are you dreamin’ of that it scares you that much?” Spina asked, but the vehement tone in his voice was gone, replaced by an almost soothing one. He wanted Eugene to speak about it, Eugene could tell, but…

And then his mouth decided to let it all out without his permission, and he found himself pouring it all out, and his voice was rising and rising and rising, and then… The end.

“Heffron dies. And Lieutenant Welsh gets hurt.”

“Everyone has nightmares like that, Gene,” Spina retorted. “Ya don—”

“Not like this! Not the same one all the time!” Eugene seethed in anger. “It’s not a nightmare.”

“So what? Ya think ya can predict the future or somethin’ like that?”

Eugene stared at the other medic and bit his lip. Hard. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn’t really thought about what the nightmares were, but now that Spina had said the words “predict the future”... No, that couldn’t be true. There were no such things as premonitions.

“I don’t know,” he finally sighed. “I don’t fucking know… But they seem so… real.”

“Yeah, that’s the point. Why do ya think some of us have so much trouble sleeping?”

Eugene just looked the other medic in the eyes until he couldn’t anymore. He was supposed to be the one with a gaze that could pierce right into your soul, and yet right now, he couldn’t help but be intimidated by Spina’s unrelenting stare.

“You gonna be okay?”

He looked up at Spina’s question and briefly nodded. “I’ll try and go back to sleep.” And then, after a little pause, “Thanks for listenin’. And sorry for freakin’ out like this.”

Just a little hum, and then nothing.

.:.

“You okay there, Doc?”

A question out of the blue, but Eugene should have expected it anyway. He must have been so deathly pale. He was losing sleep since the start of the nightmares, and the little he could still have was restless. And it hadn’t even gotten better since he had confided in Spina.

“Yeah, Guarnere,” he finally answered, too slowly to be credible. “Just fine.”

“Ya sure? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His eyes immediately snapped to the side, to where Heffron was standing, laughing with other replacements—Hashey and Garcia. He forced himself to look back at Guarnere.

“No,” he replied, missing a bit again. “No ghost to talk about.”  _ Nice, you couldn’t have chosen a more worrying reply. _ He mentally cursed himself, especially since Guarnere didn’t leave him alone.

“Look, Doc, it’s been a month and we ain’t sayin’ anything’, but we’re worried.”

Eugene had half a mind to ask if Spina had said anything to them, but he chose to keep his mouth shut and stubbornly continued to rifle through his medic bag.

“Ya can’t keep to yourself like that, it’s not healthy,” Guarnere continued.

“I’m the medic here, remembe’?” His voice was ice cold and Guarnere took an appeasing step back.

“Okay, Doc. Whatever you say.”

And when he left, Eugene half felt like calling him back. But there was no point in trying to explain something he himself didn’t understand.


	2. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this time around (and frankly, I like it a lot better than the first, probably because ANGST you know XD)
> 
> Thank you again to Laura (@Anthrobrat) and Sydney for all your help in betaing, and thank you to everyone who read the first chapter, left kudos and comments!
> 
> Again, I mean no disrespect to any of the real men in Easy Company, this is fanfiction based on the TV series portrayals.

Holland was over. And Eugene was relieved, he really was. Because he couldn’t have taken any more deaths, any more people getting hurt, not when he was so tired all the damn time. Stupid nightmares… He thought that maybe, with some luck, they would stop when they got off the frontlines. But he’d never been very lucky.

And yet… He slept peacefully that first night in Mourmelon. And the night after that. And the night after that, too. Rest, finally.

Still, he made it his personal duty to look after Heffron. Which didn’t seem to bother him, at first, but then he grew suspicious again. After a week of Eugene following him closely, Heffron finally confronted him.

“Somethin’ wrong, Doc?” he asked him, but his tone wasn’t concerned like it had been back in Holland. It was more clipped, more angry perhaps.

“No, course not. Why?”

“Because ya been following me around for a week. Gonna follow me to Paris too?”

“You’re going to Paris?”

Heffron looked at him closely, and then sighed. “Jesus, Doc, I dunno whatcha think is wrong with me, but I’m  _ fine _ . Ya don’t need to follow me everywhere I go. Not here, not to Paris, not anywhere. If I ever need ya, I’ll call, okay?”

Eugene tried not to look affronted. It wasn’t like he  _ wanted _ to follow him around. It was just that he was scared. All the damn time. The nightmares might be gone, but the memories were not, and he couldn’t help but ask himself… If they seemed so real, why did they stop? Was Heffron not in danger anymore? Were they even premonitions, or whatever the hell else, or just nightmares?

But he couldn’t tell him any of that, so he just clenched his teeth and nodded once before he walked off. And with his back to Heffron, he couldn’t see the private looking at him with something a little like disappointment etched upon his face. He could, though, hear him grumbling under his breath, but he didn’t stop and turn around. Heffron had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to be bothered anymore. And he wouldn’t be. Because Eugene, if he could make sure of nothing else, could make sure of that.

.:.

The days were growing cold, there was snow in the forecasts, and the fear was coming back in full force. He was still haunted by the remnants of that month of nightmares.

But he wasn’t going to go back to following Heffron. He  _ wasn’t _ . It was just a coincidence if he found himself in the same vicinity, and nothing else. And Heffron looked like he understood that, because he was back to grinning at him every time he saw him, with that hopeful light in his eyes that made Eugene want to grin back. But he never grinned. At anyone. And he couldn’t offer being friendly with someone who might die any time soon.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Luz’s laughter, and he tried to focus back on the movie. Except at that moment, Spina sat down heavily next to him and greeted him bitterly.

“What happened?” Eugene asked, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

“Nothin’ important. Dontcha worry.”

“Y’know that’s the one thing that’s gonna make me worry more?”

Spina threw him a half-smile, that was oh so obviously meant to reassure him, and sank lower in his seat. “I just have a bad feelin’ about today.”

“I’ve had a bad feelin’ for the past two months, Spina,” he retorted.

“Yeah, and I’m startin’ to get what you’re feelin’.” Spina paused before he took a deep breath and continued, “Sorry for—”

And then the door banged open, the lights were suddenly turned on, and before anyone could react, a couple of lieutenants shouted at them they were headed to somewhere called Bastogne, and silence fell upon the room. When everybody stood up, Eugene just turned towards the other medic and said, quirking an eyebrow, “Bad feelin’, huh?”

Spina just shrugged.

.:.

Eugene was sitting on the bottom of the truck, his back against Liebgott’s legs. He was trying to ignore the fact that it was getting colder by the minute, and even when he had to hold back a cough or a sneeze, he told himself that he was imagining it. And what the hell was he thinking, telling himself that?! Of course he wasn’t imagining it. He knew it. But he also thought it would be easier if he imagined himself  _ warm _ .

Speaking of warmth, Heffron suddenly leaned in and called out for him, “Doc, for ya.” And Eugene couldn’t help the grateful smile that crossed his lips when he took the cigarette from the redhead’s fingers.

He barely had the time to lit it though, that the truck stopped, and when Eugene finally got out…

Snow. Everywhere. And cold. It was colder here than anywhere else he’d ever been. It was like the cold paralyzed his lungs and he couldn’t breathe. Or maybe he was just scared, and that was what rendered him helpless.

Still, he got down from the back of the truck and walked over to the side of the road, hunching his shoulders.

“It’s fuckin’ cold,” he grumbled to himself. Luz, who was passing by, laughed ( _ how could he laugh so much _ ) and replied, “Ya don’t say.” But rather than complaining, Luz continued on his merry way and joined up with Heffron, clapping him on the shoulder.

Eugene tried not to look at them. He really did. But the way Heffron smiled at a joke from Luz made something in his gut twist, because the snow was everywhere and the blood and death…

Something must have shown on his face, because when Spina stopped in front of him, he asked, “Ya alright?”

“Yeah, just fine”, he answered distractedly.

But Eugene didn’t sleep well that night. Or any of the nights after that. It was too cold and he was too scared that the nightmares would wake him up, and they _did_. They always did.

.:.

The first time he saw Renée, he wouldn’t even have dared thinking about how good she would be for him. How destructive too.

He didn’t smile often, and even less now that he was having those nightmares again. The more he was having them, and the more they looked like they were real. And he didn’t just see them when he was asleep—they sometimes had the nerve to flash behind his eyelids even when he was awake.

When Renée gave him the chocolate though, he couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face. He nodded and she grinned back, as bright as the sun, it seemed.

He left then. Didn’t take a second look at her. Didn’t hesitate. They needed him back at the front lines. Needed the bandages. And Toye needed the boots. There was no time for himself in all of this.

_ Maybe you should take it. _ A distant thought, one that he knew he wouldn’t act on. His job as a medic was to look after the others, not to look after himself.  _ But you can’t look after the others if you’re dead on your feet. _ He pushed that thought away. He wasn’t there yet.

When he arrived back at the front lines, the church service was ending, and he distantly heard Muck say “We’re gonna die now, we’re gonna die in a state of grace,” and worry started to bloom in his chest, especially when Spina came up to him and told him about the combat patrol.

And he tried. He really tried to go (because he was supposed to be there, it was a combat patrol and what if the nightmare was about to become  _ real _ ?), but Martin insisted that he stay, so he did. He hated himself for it, but he did.

He sat down in the snow and waited, listening to the gunfire a little distance away and waiting and waiting and waiting. He was ready when they all came running back, ready when one of them fell, ready to do his job… and he knew that was partly because he’d seen Heffron at the back of the group, still alive and well, and Captain Winters wasn’t screaming for help.

And then he realized. Heffron wasn’t well, he was screaming for them to get back and go get Julian,  _ We gotta go get him sir! _ , and what the fuck had just happened?

He would have gone after the wounded kid, but he couldn’t go alone and Martin had just said the kid was dead, and he trusted Martin.

So he refocused on the wounded man, and he didn’t miss another beat. He poured the sulfa on the wound and wrapped it in bandages, and then Luz started urging him on and he hurried up. They started hauling the wounded soldier after them a few seconds later and got him to a jeep. When finally, the jeep drove off, Eugene took a deep breath in, because that meant he would have at least a few moments of respite, away from all of the fighting. And frankly, he was so tired he couldn’t have asked for more.

.:.

That evening was just one of the worst he had been through in Bastogne. To see Heffron sitting there, looking so utterly broken… He half wanted to go up to him and just talk to him in the hopes of taking his mind off Julian, but then maybe Heffron might snap and none of them needed him to. So Eugene stayed back.

He needed to take his mind off things too, he realized soon after that. He frowned. How the hell would he be able to—?

The chocolate. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at it for a few seconds, before he felt another gaze weighing heavily on his shoulders. He looked up and saw Heffron. And in his eyes… Such anguish. And anger. And guilt. All at once.

Heffron looked away before he did, and somehow, Eugene found he was relieved.

.:.

Eugene got out of his foxhole when he realized that he couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on with Heffron. Well, of course he knew why he was acting the way he was, and he knew too that he probably wouldn’t be able to help, but he had to try. Heffron was…

Actually, Eugene didn’t even know what Heffron was to him. A friend? Not exactly. He was just one of the people he knew the most. And he was certainly the only one he’d seen dying who was still here. And Eugene intended to keep it that way, as long as possible.

Just as he was about to start his rounds, hoping to find Heffron on his way around, he saw a silhouette walking towards him, and his shoulders tensed until he recognized the way the person was walking. He sat back down in his foxhole, waiting for him to arrive.

“Doc.”

“Heffron.”

He received a hum in response, but a second later Heffron was crouching next to him. Eugene could barely see his eyes under the dark line of his helmet, but there was something to the set of his lips that worried him greatly.

“You okay, Heffron?”

“Am I okay?” Heffron repeated, and his voice had lost what little warmth it had when he’d first come to see him. “C’mon, Doc, y’know I’m not. But I guess I’m still better than Julian, so there’s that, right?”

He’d never heard Heffron sound so bitter before.

“I heard what Sergeant Martin told Captain Winters. Ya couldn’t’ve done anything.” Eugene knew the moment the words left his mouth that they weren’t the right ones to say.

“No, I couldn’t have. But maybe you could’ve helped him… If you were there.”

“I couldn’t be there, Heffron. I wish I was, but it was a combat patrol and—”

“And you were there in Holland. I saw ya. You were with us all along, and just when we needed ya to be there, you weren’t.”

Eugene stayed silent. Tried to repress the guilt that was threatening to swallow him whole and just stared up ahead at the trees. Better them than staring at the hatred that must’ve been in Heffron’s eyes.

“And I can’t even hate ya for it.”

This time, Eugene did look down at Heffron, who had somehow shifted without him noticing and now Eugene could  _ see _ . No hate. He was being sincere. Heffron didn’t hate him. And how could he not? One of his friends was dead because he hadn’t been there, and…

“Ya heard I tried ta get to him too, right? But I couldn’t cause of the fuckin’ Krauts. They were shootin’ at us, at me, every damn time I tried. And they didn’t even have the decency ta shoot ‘im dead, they just watched him writhin’ in pain… We just watched him writhin’ in pain, and we couldn’t do anythin’ because of  _ them _ .”

It was definitely hatred that Eugene heard in the last ‘them’. A hatred so great, at that, that he almost tensed. Instead, he reminded himself that it wasn’t directed at him and shifted too so he could look Heffron in the eyes, because he needed him to understand what he was about to say.

“Ya tried, Heffron. I know it’s not enough, but ya  _ tried _ .”

Heffron just looked at him with those broken eyes of his and finally nodded. “Yeah. I tried. And where did that get him?”

He was about to get up when Eugene moved again, without thought. He just needed to make sure Heffron was okay, he told himself. That’s why he wanted him to stay. No other reason whatsoever. But he just moved to block his path, and it worked, because Heffron sat back down against the wall of the foxhole and looked back at him.

“Ya need to sleep, Heffron.”

_ That has to be the worst excuse ever, he can sleep fine on his own. _ And Heffron told him just that.

“Yeah, well I think ya need company.” Eugene didn’t think about what his words could mean before they escaped his mouth, and when he realized, he felt his cheeks grow hotter by the second.

But Heffron didn’t run away, he just nodded absently and closed his eyes. Didn’t open them again, even when Eugene moved to lean against the wall next to him and pulled his cover around them both.

And that night, Eugene didn’t dream.

.:.

Eugene got in the jeep in a hurry, and didn’t even feel the jolt when it started. He didn’t let go of Gordon’s hand until they arrived in Bastogne. Even if he was out and couldn’t feel the comfort provided by him, it was the least he could do.

Once they arrived before the aid station, some soldiers he didn’t know got on the jeep and helped him get Gordon down, and he followed them inside.

And when the surgeon asked him what the hell was wrong with Gordon, he just told the truth in a whisper. “He’s paralyzed. Can’t feel a thing.” What a horrible truth too. It felt like it was still clawing at his throat, even now that it was out there in the open. Because that meant that Gordon was off the field for good, and he should be relieved, in a way, but… he’d liked him, had thought highly of him, and he’d never even told him and now he wouldn’t get that chance until this was all over. If they were both still alive by then.

So he just turned away from the surgeon, who was looking at him with something akin to pity, and…

“Eugene?”

He’d recognize that voice and that accent anywhere. Renée was there, and God he shouldn’t be surprised, because where the hell else would she be, but why did she have to be here  _ now _ ?

“Are you alright?”

He tried not to notice the concern in her voice, like he was some patient she needed to take care of. And just as he was about to get a grip on himself and nod, she was called after.

She whispered, “I’m sorry,” and walked away quickly, readjusting the blue headscarf so that none of her beautiful, golden hair could slip away. He just stared after her, even when he no longer could see her through the waves of patients and medics going to and fro in the aid station.

When he walked out of there, he decided to wait for her. Something he normally wouldn’t do, but he could think of nothing but Gordon and the concern in Renée’s voice… Maybe he needed her help after all. If he’d been right the last time he was here, she’d be able to help. With her soothing touch and calming hands.

“Eugene?”

He looked up abruptly and saw Renée. She’d just pulled off her headscarf and the gold of her hair contrasted abruptly with the red of the blood stains on the skin of her pale hands.

“Are you alright?” she asked again.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Even he didn’t believe his own words, and she looked at him with a frown.

“It’s okay to not be fine, Eugene.”

“I know. But I am. It’s just…”

“Hard. I know.”

She sat down next to him, didn’t say anything more. She just stayed there, and Eugene realized just then that she didn’t even need to touch a person to calm them down. She just needed to be there. It wasn’t her touch that was calming, it was her presence.

“He’s gonna be sent back home. He’s gonna live and—”

“He’s gonna be paralyzed, Renée. And I couldn’t do anything to stop that from happening.”

“You saved his life. And the paralysis might not be definitive, Eugene. He might not be awake right now, but soon he will be and I’m sure he’ll be grateful that you saved him. And I’ll be sure to tell you if he is.”

She took his hands in hers at that, and he let her.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

And when she lay her head on his shoulder, he didn’t move away. This felt… real. Among all the unendurable suffering he had to see, among everything he had to go through, this felt _good_. One of the only good things left. So he let her lie her head there for as long as she could, and when she finally went away, he tried not to let that go.

.:.

He jolted awake at the screams. And his guts twisted because it was Captain Winters’s voice that was screaming for a medic, but Heffron wasn’t there either so maybe—

“Eugene! Gene!”

And that was Heffron’s voice, and every single one of his hopes went crumbling down.

“Gene, c’mon, they’re callin’ for ya, ya need to—”

But Eugene couldn’t move, couldn’t even see who the other soldier was, could do nothing but stare at Heffron… And he had to move and he knew it. But move to do what?

He tried to replay his dream in a fraction of a second, to know where the bullet was coming from.

“Okay, go!” Heffron shouted at the other soldier, but it sounded like he was far, far away from him, like he wasn’t crouched on the side of the foxhole.

The foxhole… He just needed to pull Heffron down to him and everything was going to be fine! And so he did, just as a shot rang through the air. But he barely heard it, because all he could think about was the other man who landed hard on top of him, and all he could hear was the noise that their helmets made when they came into contact. And their faces were just so close, too close, together.

Heffron still had time to let out a muffled, “What the—?”, before another shot rang out and the earth just outside of the foxhole exploded with the impact of another bullet, and he pressed himself down on top of Eugene and suddenly, Eugene couldn’t think at all. Couldn’t hear anything. Could only stare, wide-eyed, at the other man.

He didn’t realize Heffron was shouting something at him in time and just caught the last few words, “C’mon, it’s over, you’ve gotta get out there!” And Heffron got up and pulled Eugene up with him.

And so Eugene went and ran in the direction of the screams, and for the first time in months, he could just _breathe_ freely, even if he was flushed from his run and his sudden proximity with Heffron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one!
> 
> The next chapter might be a little late, but I promise I'll do my best to have it up by next Monday. :)


End file.
